Tag Archive: Random


Doors

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An artist he was, his art was doors
Everyone preferred them, to protect their floors
Everyday he made one, using some colour new
Rahim preferred green, Ram preferred blue
The door-maker created beauty for all
His art was universal, adorning every wall !

Lets start a brand new story !

Lets start a brand new story
Fresh page – blank, no past worry
Lets start with self, and weave a tale new
No baggage from the past, not even snippets few

Meet new people, make a new start
On the canvas of life, make some new art
An art focussing on self … listen to your inner-voice
Choose your own colours, don’t let others influence your choice

Not everyone can be pleased, nor will everyone leave
What matters most is that in one-self, one must believe
With self-belief, move ahead and live your new tale
It’s still a vast sea out there – unexplored, just reach out and sail

He pondered what to write…

He pondered what to write…
In the middle of the night
A clumsy writer he was
Living a writer’s block – he preferred calling it a pause

Every now and then, he tried to break the same,
Write something new, he tried..but wrote usual rhymes lame
That night too… like all the rest…
He was thoughtless, wordless, still tried rhyming at his best !

Fool…realised too well that he missed that spark now,
Faced an emptiness within, sought something new somehow,
Yet acknowledging the same, meant defeat, and defeated he wont be
Remain caught in random old rhymes, to sense new thoughts…new ideas.. he was never free…

A random walk

The writer went on a random walk,
Reminiscing past conversations, re-playing some random talk

He tried to settle a recurring thought,
A warm cup of coffee he now sought

To clear his mind and think straight now
Write some new tale… needed new ideas somehow

Writer’s block, this time, was not the same as always,
His old self had left him, seemed two personalities had parted ways

He was not the same, changed over the passing time,
Yet he kept re-writing similar words, penning almost a similar rhyme

He tried to settle unclear thoughts, clear his mind
Start afresh new, not get stuck up to tales left behind

He had changed, so had life, so must his writing now
He tried to reinvent the same, but his words… his thoughts still needed a change somehow.

Confusion…

He wanted to rhyme but had no clue…
The writer, my friend, had words none…thoughts random incoherent few…
Lost in confusion, he tried his best to express
His intentions… his actions.. but with his words he always further failed to impress…

Confusion was the flavour of the season…
Random thoughts in a crowded mind, for no apparent reason…
Like a crowded Mumbai local, all on-board – set for the journey, but fatally at discomfort,
Such were the writer’s thoughts, in his words they reflected, the rhymes that he finally wrote.

Bliss

Old Days…

Old Memories…

Old thoughts…

Old endings…

Obstruction…

Destruction…

Loss…

Pain…

Obsession…

Confusion…

Silence…

………Blank……….

 

…TRAVEL …

 

New Beginnings !

New Places !

New Roads !

New Memories !

New Days !

New Thoughts !

 

BLISS !

On a winter’s night

On a winter’s night…

A writer tries to write…

What? … He has no clue…

In random words… he rhymes lines few…

 

A thought bothering him…

Making him grim..

In words he seeks a solution

Perhaps a new resolution

 

To be happy constantly… is not practical ….he knows

But he will try to seek…a silver lining…in his woes…

For every corner need not be another dead end,

For sometimes there are hidden turns, beyond the obvious bend…

 

The night may seem dark…. darkest then ever,

But this state will not remain, the night will not last forever..

This dark phase too, like others, he will survive…

After a grim night, a bright new day too will arrive……..

A traveler traveled… (incomplete)

Seeking Peace…a wanderer wandered many ways..
And so passed random nights… so passed random days..
The traveler traveled through time to seek experiences new,
See more of the world.. capture it in images and words few…

Random writings…

 

All are disillusioned.. chasing their dreams…
One desires gold.. for another even copper gleams…

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Everyone cries.. for what seems the greatest pain…
One faces drought… Another laments rain…

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An oneirophobic struggled to sleep another night…
Hoping to find peace in dreams.. and not another fright !

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He tried to write a tale too long…
Lost track in between.. wrote it all wrong..

In a cafe at night, he attempted to write another tale,
His words he misspelt, his chain of thoughts would again fail…

He attempted to write.. a perfect beginning.. and a perfect end..
Neither was possible, broken segments of the tale, he had to mend…
That’s the trouble,. he faced as a writer always..
Good stories needed high drama, twisted ways…

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He tried to survive a night too cold…
Shivered to death as per the tale retold

His tale was short…with words too less…
The plot hardly mattered.. no one heard it I guess…

He was once a writer…failed at his work…
Unread his writings remained..he just had no luck…

He disappeared that night… gone away forever..
Remembered by none.. as if he existed never…

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